


Jack Frost

by GLuisa88



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Sam Winchester, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GLuisa88/pseuds/GLuisa88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weechesters. Dean finds himself in a magical winter land where a snowman is looking for his eyes, Suzie Snowflake is trying to get back home and Sammy has been taken by the evil Jack Frost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jack Frost

_**1988**_  
  
Bundled up tightly in so many layers, Dean can barely move his arms.  
  
He doesn’t walk, he waddles.  
  
Over his head is a bright red cap that covers all of his face but for his eyes and his freckled pink nose. He trudges through the snow that comes up to nearly his knees, trying to follow the tracks that his brother had left.  
  
“Sam!” He shouts. The sound of his voice doesn’t travel far, it is swallowed up by the snow that blankets every inch of what had, just the day before, been barren trees and frozen mud.    
  
A giggle from behind him and then an unexpected push to his back and he goes down. Face first into the powdery, sparkling snow.  
  
“Haaampth,” He said around the cold snow that fills his mouth. He pushes himself to his knees and paws at his snow covered mouth with his snow covered mitten.  
  
“I’m gonna get you Sam!” He exclaims, trying to make his voice deep like their dad’s.  
  
Sammy shrieks and runs off, running faster than Dean can keep up, his figure growing smaller and smaller until all Dean can see is his little yellow cap.

In the distance, Sam’s head goes down, vanishes as if he was never there.

“Hey Sammy!” He cries out, “Where’d you go?!” Dean runs faster towards where Sam had been. He comes to the spot where Sam’s boot tracks end, stands and looks around.

He doesn’t know what to do so he starts running again, his heavy boots make it difficult to move. Sam couldn’t have just vanished, he must be around here somewhere, hiding, Dean thinks to himself.  
  
Dean trips over something beneath the snow, with a curse his dad would’ve washed his mouth out with soap for, Dean scrambles back to his feet. Rubs at the tear in his snowsuit. He grinds his teeth and pretends he isn’t about to cry.  
  
Something shiny stands out from underneath the snow. Dean bends down and brushes away the snow that covers it. It is round, flat, like a manhole cover. Engraved with strange symbols that Dean has never seen before. And on the “lid”, there is a handle. He stares, blinking, at the lid for several minutes, pondering why Sammy's boot prints end right at the lid's edge and wondering where it led to, if Sam managed to get himself trapped below.  
  
He tugs and he tugs but the door is surprisingly heavy and his mittens are wet and slippery. He gives a final tug, surprised when it pops open, sending him sprawling back.  
  
Slowly he sits up, creeps over on his hands and knees to the edge of the hole in the ground. Peers his head in. A light glows from inside and he can hear Sammy laughing, “Sam!” He calls into the glowing light, “Sammy!”  
  
But Sam does not answer.  
  
“It’s okay, Sam!” He says, “I’m comin’ down!” He dips a foot in, surprised by a force that sucks him down. He shrieks and everything goes black.  
  
…  
  
When Dean comes to, he is surrounded by sparkling crystal ice. The trees are heavy with it and the ground looks like sheer glass, stretching on for as far as his eyes can see.  
  
He stands to his feet, takes a step forward and promptly falls back on his butt. Finds himself staring up at the icy blue sky.  
  
A big round, white face appears in his line of vision, it stares down at him. The face isn’t much like any face Dean’s ever seen. It’s white with coal for a mouth and a carrot for his nose and only two empty divots where his eyes should be. A tall black hat perches precariously on his head.  
  
“Help me, would you?” The face says.  
  
“What kind of monster are you?” Dean asks.  
  
“A blind one for I have no eyes,” it responds and Dean nods for he can see that this is true.  
  
Dean takes the stick that is offered to him and pulls himself back upright. “I am looking for my Sammy. Have you seen…” He doesn’t finish the sentence when he sees the creature’s coal mouth turn into a frown.  
  
“I do not see anything. But if you help me find my eyes, I will help you find your Sammy.”  
  
Dean tilts his head and considers the creature’s offer. “But I do not know what your eyes look like,” He points out.  
  
“Neither do I,” Says the creature. Water leaks from the corners of where his eyes should be. His tears quickly turn to ice.  
  
Dean nods for he realizes that in order to find your eyes you must have your eyes and if you do not have eyes, then you cannot find where you may have lost them.  
  
“Alright,” He says slowly, hesitantly, “But I must find my Sammy for he is only a little boy and I am supposed to watch out for him.  
…  
  
He steps carefully. The Snowman, for that is what he appears to be, notices with what difficulty Dean walks and he offers the boy his hand. His hand looks more like a branch from a tree than an actual hand but Dean grabs onto it and holds tightly. Several times his feet almost fly out from under him but the snowman takes him by the arm and keeps him from spilling.  
  
“Where did you last see your eyes?” Dean asks the creature as he keeps his eyes on the ground, watching his steps.  
  
“On my face,” says Snowman.”  
  
“Oh,” says Dean.  
  
He doesn’t know where to begin to look because he is surrounded all around by blank, white emptiness and the snowman is being no help at all.  
  
“Hey, hey, hey!” Calls a high, fragile voice from above, and then from behind and then from near his ear. He whips around trying to find where it is coming from.  
  
“Head’s up! Look alive, don’t hit me!” The voice says as Dean swats something away from his eyelashes.  
  
“Why, it’s Suzie Snowflake!” Says Dean’s carrot nosed friend. Says it as if Dean should know who that is.  
  
Dean stretches out his mitten and Suzie perches on top of it. He looks closer and sees that she is draped in a silver white shimmering gown. She smiles and her teeth sparkle.  
  
“You are really tiny,” Dean says.  
  
Her laughter tinkles through the air, “No, you are just very enormous.”  
  
“What are you doing in Jack Frost’s territory?” The snowman asks of Suzie.  
  
“The wind blew me here and I am trying to find my way back home.” In fact, the wind blows as she speaks and carries her away. It is several moments before she returns, “Do you see my problem?” She asks, her voice is small and squeaks.  
  
“Yes,” Says the snowman.  
  
“No,” Says Dean.  
  
“Every time I get close to home, the wind blows me back here. I say, it is very lucky for me that I find you two.”  
  
“Yes, it is,” says the Snowman.  
  
“I am looking for my Sammy and Snowman’s eyes,” Dean tells Suzie. “I cannot help you too.”  
  
“What does your Sammy look like?” Suzie asks, fluttering close to Dean’s eyelashes.  
  
He blinks and takes a step back, “He is wearing a yellow cap and a striped scarf.”  
  
“Well there is no one else around here that looks like that. We should be able to find him.” She flutters up against Dean’s cheek. “Unless,” she flits over to Snowman, “Unless Jack Frost gets him first.”       
  
“Jack Frost?!” Dean cries.  
  
“He’s a nasty,” She says as fiercely as her small little voice can manage. “He has a soul as cold as a popsicle and teeth as sharp as icicles!” She looks over to Snowman, “Hey, that rhymed!”  
  
“He is so cold, he takes children and makes blankets out of them!” The snowman adds.  
  
Dean’s eyes grow as wide as they possibly can. He lets go of Snowman’s hand and starts running, “I gotta find Sammy!” He calls over his shoulder, and he’s not watching where he’s stepping and he lands, splat, right on his face. He would’ve chipped a tooth had he gotten his wish for two front teeth for Christmas.  
  
Suzie Snowflake and Snowman are right behind him and they help him get back up.  
  
“If you help me find my eyes,” says Snowman.  
  
“And if you help me get back home,” says Suzie.  
  
“We will help you find your Sammy,” Snowman and Suzie say in unison.  
  
Dean wipes the tears from his eyes with the back of his mitten. “Sammy is too young to be a blanket!”  
  
…  
  
Together they trudge through the snow drifts and past the marshmallow slog and over the fruitcake bridge.  
  
“We must find Gabrielle, the angel who sits on top of the Christmas Tree,” Suzie tells Dean. “From where she sits, she can see everything and she will be able to tell us where your Sammy is.”  
  
Dean’s voice gets caught in his throat like peanut butter so he only nods his head and tries not to picture his little brother as a cozy winter blanket.  
  
The wind swirls around them and nips at Dean’s nose. His toes are numb and the snow is melting through his mittens. It feels like they walk for several hours before the biggest Christmas tree Dean had ever seen comes into sight.  
  
“Wow,” is all Dean can say. His breath freezes and clatters to the ground.  
  
“I wish I could see it,” Snowman says mournfully. “Tell me what it looks like,” He says to Suzie.  
  
“It is very big and it is very green,” Suzie tells him.  
  
“Hello!” Sings Gabrielle from on top of the tree, “I saw you coming from a long ways _out_ , what is it you come to see me _about_?”  
  
Her tune is curious and her voice is melodic, her words are spoken in rhyme  
  
“We are looking for this boy’s Sammy.”  
  
“What is a Sammy?” Asks the angel.  
  
“A Sammy is a little boy,” answers Snowman.  
  
“He is my little brother,” answers Dean.  
  
“We think Jack Frost may have taken him,” answers Suzie.  
  
“What does a Sammy look like?” Gabrielle sings and Dean wonders if she ever says anything that is not a melody.  
  
“He is wearing a yellow cap and a striped scarf.”  
  
“Oh,” says Gabrielle sadly. This she does not sing.  
  
“Oh,” Suzie and Snowman say together.  
  
“What?!” Dean cries.  
  
“Jack Frost has taken your brother,” the angel tells him.  
  
“Why didn’t you stop him?!” Dean wails.  
  
“I am but a tree top angel,” Gabrielle says sadly, “All I can do is watch.”  
  
“There is still time,” Suzie says. “We can still save your Sammy if we can get there before the winter chill sets in.”  
  
Dean looks at Suzie with wide eyes and shivers. He doesn’t know what the winter chill feels like if this is not it but as long as there is time to save his brother, he will do whatever it takes. “When does the winter chill set in?” He asks

“No one knows but it will be soon,” says Suzie  
  
“Trust me,” says Snowman, “You will know it when you feel it.”  
  
Dean nods. He takes Snowman’s hand, lets Suzie perch on the tip of his nose and together the three of them set off to rescue Sammy.  
  
…  
  
The sky grows dark and lightning bolts strike all around. Jack Frosts castle looms up in front of them, black muddy snow piled in drifts. Sludge covers the pathway to the front door.  
  
“I can’t go inside for I am blind,” Snowman tells Dean.  
  
“And I cannot go inside for I will melt,” says Suzie.  
  
“Then what am I supposed to do?!” Dean asks.  
  
“If you throw salt on Mr. Frost, he will melt and your brother will be free,” they tell him and hand him a bag of salt.  
  
“Good luck!” Snowman pats him on the back.  
  
“We wish you well!” Suzie’s small voice calls out.  
  
…  
  
The door is massive, almost as tall as the castle itself. Dean stands on his tiptoes and yet he is still not able to reach the handle. He thinks he would be able to if he had his dad’s shoulders to stand on, which he does not.  
  
Right in the middle of the door is another much smaller door. This door is as small as the big door is big.  
  
Dean crouches down and hunches his shoulders in, he tugs and he pulls and he finally pushes himself through the door with an audible pop.  
  
He stumbles to his feet and looks around to see if there is any one to have heard him.

A few giant nutcrackers stand guard at the end of the hallway but they neither blink nor move.

“Hello,” Dean whispers at them. They do not turn towards him.

What is the point of guards who do not guard? Dean creeps forward, his snow boots squelching and squeaking along the icy flooring. He creeps up as close to the behemoth statues as he dares and pokes at one of them tentatively.

He jumps back with a startled cry as it jerks at him, chomping its jaws viciously. He scrambles towards one of the giant sculpted ice pillars and hides. He hopes his thumping heartbeat can’t be heard.

“Hello, little boy.” He whirls around at the sound of a frosty voice behind him.

The man is pale, his skin looks white and ashen, frostbitten. His hair is shockingly white and his eyes are a bright, sparkling gray.

On the man’s jacket, are two large pieces of coal, used as buttons. Snowman’s eyes, no doubt.

The man is hunched over. Slung over his back is a sack with a small little boy inside. Sammy’s yellow cap sticks out.

“Jack Frost!” Dean gasps.

“Mr. Jack Frost.”

“You have my Sammy!” Dean cries.

“Oh really? I don’t recall your name on him.” Jack Frost taps on his chin with his long, overgrown fingernail.

“Well he’s mine all the same and you can’t have him!”

“Oh but I really, really want him so I think I shall. Now run on home, little boy, to your mummy and your daddy, and I won’t eat you for dinner.”

“Let Sammy go and you can have me instead!” Dean suggests, “I would make you a warm, fluffy winter blanket, Mr. Frost!” Dean cries, “You don’t want a Sammy- a Sammy is no good for blankets! He is small and squirmy and he kicks you in the back at night!”

Mr. Frost laughs, “Now that does sound charming! And he’s so cute and adorable! Cuddly and soft like all winter blankets should be! I really do think he will be my favorite- you shan’t talk me out of it, young man, though your attempts are rather heartwarming!” He pauses, “If I had a heart. Which I don’t!”

But Mr. Frost makes a mistake. He underestimates Dean and he turns his back on the young boy. Dean lets out a cry of anger and leaps towards the cold, icicle of a man. Sends him toppling to the ground.

Mr. Frost curses in pain as one of his icy fingers snaps off, “I was wrong, child! You won’t be going home, I am going to eat you for a mid-afternoon snack!”

He picks up Dean and throws him across the room. Dean is dazed and can hardly breathed. Mr. Frost stomps up to him, “I like my food chilled!” He says as opens his mouth wide and blows his icy cold breath on Dean.

Dean can feel the cold burning through his snowsuit, through his skin into his very bones. He can feel his blood freezing, his tears turn to ice on his face.

But slowly his numb, fumbling fingers manage to unzip his suit, he reaches his hand inside his shirt and pulls out the bag of salt Snowman had given him.

“You can’t have Sammy!” He cries as he throws a handful on the wretched, cold man.

Jack Frost screams in pain, his skin melting off his bones, slowly disintegrating into a puddle at Dean’s feet. Dean bends down and yanks the snowman’s eyes off Jack Frosts jacket before rushing over to his brother’s side. Sam scrambles his way out of Jack Frost’s bag and leaps into Dean’s arms.

Dean pulls his crying brother into a hug, “Let’s get outta here!” He says.

The End


End file.
